


Speechless

by IdPattThat



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdPattThat/pseuds/IdPattThat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It didn't happen quickly, like you saw in movies or on television. In fact, it happened so slowly that sometimes the people around them wondered if it were even happening at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

**Speechless**

 

It didn't happen quickly, like you saw in movies or on television. In fact, it happened so slowly that sometimes the people around them wondered if it were even happening at all.

 

But it was.

 

The first time they kissed was like nothing Steve had ever experienced. It was quick and rough, full of months of pent up feelings and frustrations. It happened in the basement of Stark Mansion after a particularly grueling fight. Tony had been down there all night repairing his suit, welding and hammering and swearing, exhausted and beat up and almost certain he had a broken _something._ __

Steve had brought him coffee.

 

He brought him coffee and his fucking dimply smile and Tony just couldn’t take it anymore. Before Steve even knew what was happening he was pressed against Tony’s workbench and his hands were in Tony’s hair, holding him close, daring him to move. Tony tasted like sweat and blood and just… _Tony._

 

Of course, after it happened, Steve had simply stumbled away, muttering under his breath about “working out or going for a walk and I just need some air”. 

 

Tony simply watched him walk away, dazed. He touched his mouth tentatively, afraid that if he moved too much he’d realize that the whole moment didn’t really happen at all. 

 

Steve wasn't around for the next few days, but nobody really asked why. He was prone to going off for days at a time to be alone. Sometimes being around so many people, especially the Avengers and all their, ahem, _robust_ personalities, wore on him and he needed a break. Not that he didn't love each of them- because he really did.

 

But sometimes (okay, _most times)_ Steve missed the simpler days. Sometimes he thought about Peggy and Bucky and his heart broke just a little bit more at their memory. 

 

And sometimes what he felt for Tony scared the living daylights out of him.

 

It wasn't like Steve hadn't had these feelings before, because he had. What was different was the fact that in the twenty-first century those feelings were completely acceptable to have. There was no hiding or lying. If he wanted to be with Tony- he could.

 

Did he want to be with Tony?

 

The answer was a crystal clear…maybe.

 

But, then again, Steve knew Tony better than anyone else since he’d “woken up”. He knew how excited Tony got when he had a new idea, and that his quiet thoughtfulness simply meant he was tired and overworked. Steve knew that Tony only pretended to be useless in the kitchen, and that he was could make the best French toast Steve had ever had- only it had to be at 3AM when no one else was around.

 

So, yeah. Maybe Steve did want to be with Tony. But did Tony want to be with Steve?

 

“Why are you so mopey, Stark?” Natasha asked after the fourth day Steve had been gone. Tony glared at her from behind the microwave, which was emitting a morose, faintly pleading _beeeee-eee-eep_ every time Tony twiddled a wire. “Wait. What are you making that thing do?”

 

“I’m not mopey. And you’ll find out.”

 

“Yeah…that’s the thing. I don’t want to _find out._ ”

 

“Well, you will, Nat. Just like everyone else,” he muttered and disappeared. Natasha imagined him twirling a handlebar moustache and laughing maniacally, and then really, _really_ hoped Steve would come home soon. The last time Tony had refurbished a kitchen appliance, the freezer threw ice cubes at everyone any time it was opened.

 

“Have you talked to Steve?” She tried to be detached about the question, but the topic of Steve was about as attached as you could get. _Especially_ when it came to asking Tony about Steve.

 

“I’m not Steve’s keeper. He can do whatever he wants,” Tony managed to say through his clenched teeth.

 

“Stark brooding again?” Tony could hear Clint from behind the microwave, and the screwdriver _accidentally_ flew out of his hand and at Barton without a conscious thought.

 

“Master assassin, Stark. Master. _Assassin_.” Clint caught the screwdriver neatly and tossed it onto the counter. “Call Rogers. You need to release some energy.”

 

Tony sighed and leaned on the counter, feeling more irritated than usual. He’d gotten less than ten hours of sleep in the few days that Steve had been gone.

 

He couldn’t help it, though. Sometimes it was a huge comfort to know that someone like Steve was under the same roof as him. Tony had never really had that much stability as a child, and with Steve he felt it.

 

He felt the safety and security with the touch of Steve’s strong hands. The comfort from hearing his voice. And, _dammit,_ Tony thought, the fucking _love_ just from Steve’s million-dollar-smile.

 

Yeah. Tony Stark was in love with Captain America.

 

_Fucking perfect._

Tony took a deep breath and threw down his tools. They clanged on the counter as he quickly strode away from the gutted microwave and ran upstairs to change. He didn’t worry about a shower because he knew (somehow) that Steve wouldn’t care either way.

 

There was a little coffee place that Steve liked to go to in his old neighborhood. It used to be a barber shop, a place that Steve visited all the time. It was somewhere he knew and remembered. Somewhere he loved.

 

Tony was sure he would be there, sketching the skyline. No matter how many times he sketched it, Steve never thought he got it right. Tony thought every picture was perfect because it came from Steve. From his eyes and his hands…from his heart.

 

He practically flew downstairs yanking on a shirt, past the judging eyes of Natasha and Clint, and out the front door- only to run smack into a brick wall.

 

Well, a brick wall that was, in fact, Captain America.

 

“You came back,” Tony practically wheezed as he picked himself up off the ground. Steve reached out to help and nearly lifted him off his feet.

 

“I’m sorry I left.” Steve frowned and the sight of it physicallyhurt Tony. He didn’t want to see that look on Steve’s face. And he sure as hell didn’t want to be the cause of it.

 

“It’s okay- I shouldn’t have- I-” Tony started, but as Steve stepped closer he found that the words were difficult to force out.

 

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve whispered.

 

“Okay. Yeah. I can do that.”

 

Steve smirked, and damn if it wasn’t sexy as hell. “Can you?”

 

“I can. I really can.”

 

“Really, Tony. Just for a minute.”

 

“Okay, Steve, _Jesus._ I said-”

 

The last words of his protest never left Tony’s lips, because before he knew it Steve’s hands were on his face and Tony was pressed against the door. He tasted the same as Tony remembered. He briefly thought “like freedom” and quickly pushed it out of his head before he started laughing and ruined the moment.

 

Were they having a moment? Steve’s hands were framing his face, their bodies were pressed together, their lips met in perfect motion…yeah, it was a moment. No, a Moment, capital "m" and all.

 

“You are volatile and unpredictable,” Steve said once he pulled away.

 

Tony frowned, his face still held in Steve’s hands. “Um…”

 

“Sometimes I can’t stand to be in the same room with you.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I just want to shake you and tell you to shut up most of the time.”

 

“Steve, I’m really not sure where you’re going with this,” Tony muttered and tried to break away from Steve’s grasp.

 

“You’re the only thing that feels certain any more, Tony. This isn’t a life that I asked for, and you’re the only thing I can count on in it. I know that you are always going to be you no matter what, and I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful for you. I love you, Tony.”

 

And, as he gazed up into the clearest blue eyes he’d ever seen, the eyes of the man he _loved_ , for the first time in his life…Tony Stark was speechless.


	2. Chapter Two

Speechless, Part Two

 

“Aw, Steve! Can’t we keep him?”

 

As Steve stared at Tony across the examination table at SHIELD, it was his turn to be speechless.

 

“Keep him? Tony, he’s a child, not a Labrador.” Steve rolled his eyes, but as the child in question nearly flung himself off the sterile table and into Steve’s arms, he seriously started to consider it.

 

The boy was hardly two years old, with a mess of brown hair and big, sad eyes that seemed like they had seen too much in his short time on earth. He'd been found by accident, really; the team hadn't been quite sure what they were going to find in that big, abandoned warehouse after an anonymous phone call sent them there. It was, of course, a wild goose chase, and the only thing they found was the boy.

 

_My name is Peter_.

 

That was all the note that was pinned to his little t-shirt said. After that, it was a mess of swearing (from Clint) and tears (from Peter) until Steve, ever the leader, stepped in and scooped the boy up in his able arms. His face stayed buried in the blue fabric of Captain America’s uniform the entire way back to headquarters.

 

Later that night, after Peter had been tucked into a too-big bed at the Avengers’ home. Steve found Tony in his workshop tinkering away with his suit. He was completely lost in his creation, and Steve watched while Tony went on, seemingly oblivious.

 

“You know, you’re not as stealthy as you think, Captain,” Tony muttered, and shot a cocky grin in Steve’s direction. Steve rolled his eyes and strolled into the workshop, head down and hands in his pockets.

 

He shrugged. “I wasn't trying to be stealthy, I was just observing.” Picking up one of the numerous coffee cups surrounding Tony’s workspace, he asked, “Have you slept?”

 

“Yesterday. I think.”

 

“Tony…” Steve started to chastise him, but Tony held up his hand.

 

His dark eyes were tired, but Steven knew to leave well enough alone. He knew that Tony would rest when he was ready and when he felt like his work was finished. Maybe.

 

Steve sighed. “Don’t stay up too late.” He rested his hand briefly on the back of Tony’s neck. Tony closed his eyes, leaning into the touch, but kept on working.

 

Hours later, when the left side of the bed was still empty and the rest of the house was quiet, Steve had decided to take it upon himself to physically remove Tony from his lab.

 

Only Steve didn’t make it as far as he thought he would. He was stopped short at the end of the hallway, just outside the room where he’d secured Peter. A faint blue light spilled out into the hallway, a light that he was incredibly familiar with. The light from Tony’s ARC reactor bathed the room in a warm, blue glow and Steve felt his frustration with his significant other melt away.

 

Tony was sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed. His head hung at an uncomfortable angle, but Steven was glad he was at least _sleeping_. He left him on the floor, knowing that Peter would be safe and that Tony would feel better because he was there. Peter’s little body was close to the edge of the bed and facing Tony, almost as if they’d fallen asleep mid-conversation.

 

It was Clint’s surprised yells that brought Steve half-dressed and running into the kitchen the next morning.

 

“What the hell is this? That’s not in his paperwork! Does SHIELD even _know_ he can do that?” Clint sputtered, while Tony stood by laughing.

 

“What’s going on?” Steve frowned. Clint gestured to the top of the stainless steel refrigerator that Peter was currently standing on top of. “How’d he get up there?” Steve asked and reached his arms up. Peter practically dove off the top and Steve caught him, laughing.

 

“He _climbed_ up there. Like...like a monkey.” Clint shook his head as if to clear cobwebs in it and then turned back to the coffee pot.

 

Tony shrugged. “It was more like a spider.”

 

“Climbed,” Steve repeated. “Like a spider.”

 

“It was pretty cool actually,” Tony said, with a gleam in his eye that Steve recognized as the same look he got with a new idea or invention. 

 

“ _Well_. Okay then.”

 

“So, _now_ can we keep him?”

 

Steve bit his lip to hide his smile and looked down at the little boy, babbling happily in his arms.

 

“Well, I guess we kind of have to.”

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta read. Not edited. Winter Soldier spoilers, perhaps. Just my feelings in a dumb little puddle here.

The machines beep around him, the sounds have become familiar already and don't disturb him as he slips in and out of consciousness. He doesn't know how long he's been there, but the pain in his body has begun to fade. People come and go. They check his vitals and marvel at how his wounds have healed so quickly. It's the serum, he wants to say, but doesn't. Sam and Nat stop by, but only briefly. There are so many things to take of now.

So many things to worry about.

Bucky.

The thought of his old friend slices through him like a knife. His chest aches far more than any wound a weapon could make. He can't even describe how it felt to see his friend, whom he thought he'd lost seventy years ago, alive and well. Well, alive anyways, Steve thought.

There was some recognition in Bucky's eyes just before he fell from the helicarrier, he knew that. Steve also knew it was Bucky who had pulled him out of the water. It was Bucky who'd left him on the shore. Bucky who had saved his life.

A faint press of fingers against his palm cause Steve's eyes open slowly, warily. The room is dark and it's hard to make out the figure in the chair next to his bed, but Steve doesn't need the light on to know exactly who it is.

"Hey," the voice that greets him is gravelly, and Steve knows it's because the owner is sleep-deprived and worried. The simple notion that Tony Stark could worry about anything makes him smile. "Stop smiling, you asshole."

"I just got shot by my back-from-the-dead best friend and you call me an asshole? That's low, even for you, Tony," Steve teased weakly, but Tony didn't respond. He simply took Steve's hand in both of his and pressed his face against their intertwined fingers. Steve could feel the warmth and wetness of tears and he immediately regretted his joke.

"You scared me," Tony whispered and Steve frowned. Tony Stark didn't get scared.

"I'm sorry, next time I'll try not to get myself almost killed," he offered a half-assed apology and a feeble smile.

Tony nodded and let go of Steve's hand to wipe at his own eyes then, before Steve could respond, Tony was out of his chair and leaning over Steve's hospital bed. He took Steve's face in his hands and gently pressed his lips to his forehead, then lips.

"You should probably try really, really hard," Tony said with the hint of a smile before he leaned in for another kiss.

As he did, the door to the small room opened and before either one of them could blink a tiny body was, quite literally, climbing up the end of Steve's hospital bed.

Tony was quick enough, however, and grabbed Peter before he could do any major damage. Steve was so relieved to see the kid that he couldn't even be mad at Tony for bringing him to a place where people die. Where he might have died here.

Peter didn't speak, he just started indignantly at Tony, who rolled his eyes and chanced a glance at Steve. Steve gave a small nod and held out his hand that wasn't connected to a monitor.

"Okay, okay," Tony grumbled as he set Peter on the edge of Steve's bed. "For the record: Barton was supposed to be watching him," he argued before realizing that he didn't really need to defend himself.

It was something about the way that the little boy effortless folded himself into Steve's embrace. The way his partner pressed his face to the little boy's hair and breathed in deeply. It reminded Tony of the time they'd found Peter. He was so scared and all alone, but Steve had made the boy feel safe. Hell, he made everyone feel safe.

After a moment Peter pulled away and took Steve's face in his tiny hands.

"You okay?" He whispered.

"I'm okay," Steve whispered back and then glanced up at Tony. "I'm okay," he reassured him.

"Good enough for me."

And maybe he was okay. Or would be…eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> ShortHappyLife prepread and killerlashes does beta work. This is my first (and probably only!) Stony story ever. Thanks for reading! ;)


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